


Something, Anything, Nothing

by kingslayersrogue



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A possible snippet series, F/M, Grief, Major character death - Freeform, Marcus crying over Abby's Grave, Mourning, Tears, burial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:06:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingslayersrogue/pseuds/kingslayersrogue
Summary: "I don't want to forget a single moment. The good and the bad, the highs and the lows, they all mean so much. You mean so much…..I'll never forget Abby, I promise.”





	Something, Anything, Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to The Angel Of Death™ for the encouragement, it's nowhere near par with her works but hey I tried.

He doesn't blame her. He never could, but it doesn't lessen the pain. No, he blames himself. That maybe if he’d been more attentive, if he really  _ looked _ at her he could've done something. Said something,  _ anything.  _ Of course, it all goes deeper than that, further back. More mistakes, more things he could've done just that little bit different and prevent this whole thing.

He blames himself, yes, but he could never blame her.

It's over now, there's nothing to do and there hasn't been for a long time.

In the beginning, grief had consumed him. Locked away in his room without regard for those who needed him. Because he needed  _ her, _ and she wasn't here. It was selfish, that was something he knew. Everyone in this damned bunker had lost a loved one at some point or another. They didn't hide away, shirk all responsibility to drown in their own despair. It wasn't until Jackson had asked him what he was going to do with her that he snapped out of it. Reigning in his emotions enough to do something concrete, something of purpose.

If by chance or by fate, he was the only one besides her one that could go up there. Selfishly, he's glad for it. It means he can have this time all to himself. To mourn her privately without the weightless condolences and pitiful looks. He doesn't want pity, he wants  _ her. _

It's a long process, finding a spot of land that isn't barren and wasted. Once he does it's like a weight fades from his shoulders, the vice that held him loosened, and finally, if only by a bit,  _ he could breathe. _

He's got no tools but a small shovel and his determination to give her the respect she deserves. It's a long and grueling process but with each scoop of dirt, he could feel himself healing just that little bit. Oh, a piece of him would always be missing, it belonged to her and it always had. Somehow the act was c athartic. The small service he held, all by himself short as it may be was the same way.

*******

It's been a year and a half since he dug Abigail Griffin’s grave. A year and a half since he saw her face for the last time. It has not been a year and a half since the last time he cried for her.

Tonight is one of those nights where everything just seems to add up. He’d woken up bathed in his own sweat. Voice hoarse for calling out her name as he slept. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't shake the visions.

Abby gasping and choking, white foam spilling from her lips as he screamed her name.

Abby seizing and falling hard. Head hitting the floor with a sickening crack.

Abby trying desperately to force out her dying words as he sobbed into her neck.

Abby slowly slipping through his fingers, a ghostly untouchable mist, as he cried out for her to  _ just stay a little bit longer. _

It was inescapable torture these halls, filled with the ghost of her. Normally, on a night when everything was all too much, he'd sequester himself away with a bottle of whatever he could find until the haze was enough to send him into a dreamless sleep. He knew Abby if she were here, would berate him to kingdom come for dealing with his problems with a bottle, but old habits die hard.

Except now his supply had been cut off by order of the commander herself. The longer he stayed inside these walls, however, the more he longed to sink to his knees and will himself into oblivion. The only escape was up, and he just so happened to have the key.

The moment his feet made contact with the charred Earth on the outskirts of the once grand capital he broke into a run. As fast as he could for as long as he could. He didn't even know where he was headed and the only light he had to guide him was that of a ghoulish red moon.

He ends up flat on his back next to her gave, chest heaving and muscles burning fiercely. For a moment he just lays, trying to calm his racing heart.

From here, if he just stares straight up, the world doesn't seem so hopeless. He can see constellations peeking through the canopy of lush green trees. There's soft grass under his back and a field of flowers of all different colors by his feet. Then he looks to his left and sees the final resting place of the woman he loves, the remains of the planet he'd dreamt of for years to his right, and the moment passes.

“I never told you I loved you, I don't really know how to deal with that. I know you knew, but I wanted to  _ say _ it.” He doesn't know what compels him to start talking, but the more he goes on the less power he feels to stop. “I loved you so much, I still do, my heart will always belong to you. I just wish we had more time.” His eyes move to the hand carved stone bearing her name, reaching over to brush off some dirt. “There were so many things I wanted to do with you. I wanted to take you on a picnic under the stars. I wanted to make you dinner and slow dance around our room. Most of all I just wanted you, it didn't really matter what we were doing I just wanted to be around you. I guess fate had other plans.” He can feel a lone tear slip down his cheek and soak into the Earth. He worries a blade of grass between his fingers, sorting his thoughts into something worth speaking. “I still remember that day, not all of it just bits and pieces but I remember enough. For a while, I wanted to forget, to make it all go away….not anymore though. I don't want to forget the last time I held you, the last time you said my name, the last time I kissed you. As much as it hurts to remember... I-I think it’d be worse to forget. I don't want to forget a single moment. The good and the bad, the highs and the lows, they all mean so much.  _ You _ mean so much…..I'll never forget Abby, I promise.”

No one asks where he was when he descended into the hatch the next morning, disheveled and exhausted. Somehow they all just  _ know. _


End file.
